Melodies of Hope

In 1847, Placide Cappeau was commissioned by his local parish priest to write a poem for their Christmas mass. Cappeau was a French wine merchant and poet. Though it was known that he often didn’t grace the pews on a Sunday morning, he knew enough to choose Luke’s gospel as the source of his inspiration. He imagined what it would have been like to witness the birth of Jesus and penned what would become the beloved carol. Cappeau then decided that his poem could use a musical touch and enlisted the help of a friend and composer, Adolphe Adams. Adams studied in Paris and wrote for orchestras all over the world. His Jewish heritage meant he did not believe in or celebrate the birth of Jesus as the Messiah; however, he accepted Cappeau’s request anyway. “O Holy Night,” originally “Cantique de Noel,” was sung for the first time at Midnight Mass that Christmas Eve.  The church in France initially welcomed “Cantique de Noel,” and for a season, it quickly became a popular Christmas song. However, after Cappeau walked away from the church and news spread that composer Adolphe Adams was of Jewish descent, the church systematically condemned the song as “unfit for church services because of its lack of musical taste total absence of the spirit of religion.” Despite attempts to blow out the light of this beloved Christmas song, people kept singing “O Holy Night.” Over a decade later, American writer John Sullivan Dwight discovered and translated the piece into English, bringing the song to life for an entirely new audience across the ocean.  Maybe you are not as captivated by this story as I am, but when I read its origin, I thought of one word: Unlikely.  This Christmas carol was created by a poet who walked away from his faith, composed by a man who did not believe in Jesus as the Messiah and was later denounced by the church in hopes that people would forget it. But isn’t that the story of Christmas? God using the unlikely to do the unthinkable?  Mary was a young, unmarried girl. She was unlikely to be chosen to carry the Messiah. But God chose her. Shepherds, the despised, and the outcasts were the first to hear of Jesus’ birth and see the good news—that the Savior had come. This was unlikely. In an unlikely, unassuming town and a simple manger, the Savior of the world was born. If you or I were writing the story, I have a feeling it would have been full of a lot more “likelys,” a few more “well-knowns,” “well offs,” and “well kepts.” The way of God and the Kingdom is always the opposite of our sin-colored thoughts. Praise the Lord it is because that means there is hope for you and me!  You and I are the unlikely, the unassuming, the undeserving—now filled with hope and worth because our Savior has come. Grace is here…His name is Jesus! And in Him, all is satisfied, and all is complete, all is at rest.  We, too, can sing,  Long lay the world in sin and error pining ‘Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn Fall on your knees O hear the angel voices O night divine O night when Christ was born On Christmas Eve in 1906, Reginald Fessenden, a young university professor and chemist, also did the unlikely. Fessenden spoke into a microphone, and for the first time in history, airwaves carried a man’s voice far and wide:  ”And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed….”  People were stunned as they heard Fessenden read the miracle of Jesus’ birth over the radio that night. When he was finished, he picked up his violin, and the sound of the first song ever played on the radio rang out in homes, on ships, around tables, and in hearts. The song? O Holy Night.

Did you know that “Joy to the World” is not necessarily a Christmas song?  About 300 years ago, a musical genius named Isaac Watts wrote the world-renowned poem, inspired by Psalm 96 and Psalm 98, about the day the Messiah will come. Over 100 years later, the poem received a melody, and a song was born. The irony of the piece being a famous Christmas carol is that it was initially about the second coming of Christ, not the first. This year, we will sing the same timeless, festive songs for hundreds of years. While songs like “Joy to the World” will never expire, the lyrics may lose their vigor as people lose touch with the meaning. To set ourselves up for a genuinely worshipful Christmas season, let’s look at some lyrics, their meaning, and their application today. JOY TO THE WORLD // Watts had an interesting but not unique take on the return of Jesus. Even though it meant judgment of the world, he saw that Christ’s second coming was good, joyous news to the world. Whether Watts was talking about the ‘world’ and referring to the people or the creation is unknown, but what is undoubtedly the case is that His people and creation long for His return (Romans 8:19-23; Revelation 22:20). So, His coming is joyous because it means the plan – to fix all that is broken in the world – is initiated (Psalm 96:11; Psalm 100). LET EVERY HEART PREPARE HIM ROOM // Jesus spoke the famous words penned in Revelation, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come into him and eat with him and he with me” (Revelation 3:20). Jesus also warned people that there is only room for one in each of our hearts. “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other,” He said to His disciples. Watt’s wish was that of Jesus that every person would make room in their life for Jesus. In other words, when He comes, may people understand both the opportunity and the danger and clear space for their King. HEAVEN AND NATURE SING // God the Father, God the Son, and God the Spirit set the universe in motion at the beginning of time. Since then, creation has presented to God a perpetual and all-encompassing song of praise (Psalm 96:1-3; 12-13). When you sing these words this Christmas, you join the never-ending song of creation. LET MEN THEIR SONGS EMPLOY // Think of ‘employ’ as ‘use.’ Since we are called to live worshipful lives – in both word and deed – Watts prayed that people would leverage their song to glorify God. A great application of this line would be to use this song to increase your joy. This may be a challenge this Christmas season: to sing the songs and acknowledge every word.  Today, so many people grow numb to these realities or doubt them just days after believing them. Then, they allow doubt and numbness to limit the meaningfulness of their song (Romans 12:1). Instead, let us be a Church this Christmas season that sings songs with intention from a place of authenticity. REPEAT THE SOUNDING JOY // Creation exists in a cycle. Yes, many rhythms are found in nature, but there is another repetition at work: the cycle of worship. The Psalmist writes that “Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.” What is this speech? It is answered in the preceding verse: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1-2). In the Apostle Paul’s words, “God’s invisible attributes…have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made (Romans 1:20).  As you sing these words this Christmas, reflect on the fact that you are fulfilling your ordained function in displaying for the world a presentation of the character of God. In singing, you are fulfilling your God-intended purpose! AND HE MAKES THE NATIONS PROVE // The world affirms the worldview of the Bible – most of the time unintentionally. Some of the best evidence for God comes through the activity and thinking of people. Nation’s prove God, says Watts. In this particular case, Watts suggests that nations prove the beauty and magnificence of God’s perfect character. How do people all over the world reveal God’s perfect character? They live with a standard, a common moral law, suggesting God’s right living is a way of life to be achieved (Psalm 96:7, Psalm 96:10). Our morals—what we sense is right and wrong – strongly suggest that God has wired humanity to evaluate good and evil through His lens. HE WILL RULE WITH TRUTH AND GRACE // The world is full of joy and hope because Jesus will reign with compassion and understanding without compromising truth and justice. His track record as a ruler will be perfect, finally revealing to every kingdom of the earth what kind of ‘Kingdom’ people had been hoping for in casting every ballot and waging every war (Revelation 20:6). So, do we discount this Christmas carol because it isn’t directly related to the birth of Jesus? I say we keep it. While the song may have originally served the purpose of directing attention to the good news of Jesus’ second coming, a similar, if not the same, celebratory spirit belongs at the birth of Christ. What does the second coming have to do with the first? Jesus is the world’s light, come to cast out the darkness. He completed part of His mission some two thousand years ago, and He will return to finalize His work and put evil in its place once and for all. Celebration of His first coming always has His second in mind, and the reverse is also true. Without the birth of Jesus, there would be no second coming, no perfected Kingdom, no all-satisfying, reconciling judgment, or joy in the world.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven,     and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” Luke 2:13-14 Perhaps no time of year puts on display the difference between the idyllic presented life and the reality of living quite as starkly as the Christmas season. Count ten people, and you’ll count ten stories, circumstances, and celebrations. Life is, after all, the simultaneous combination of joy and sorrow, the commingling of what has been lost, what is, and what is hoped for. For the Christian, this well of gratitude and grief runs deep, beyond fleeting feelings, into the soul where the presence of something striking exists. (Ecclesiastes 3:11) When we have seen and cannot help but see the impermanence of what is around us, there may be a sense of grief and longing that rushes in to fill the moments where life slows down just long enough for reflection. So, as we arrive at the twelfth and final month of each year, and the perfect pictures of family dinners, gifts, and matching sweaters fill our eyes, your heart may sink rather than leap. And if it does, and if it ever has, hear the angels’ cry today: “Peace to those on whom His favor rests.”  There is an inherent danger in an article like this that these words or the sentiment behind them, even when coupled with Holy Scripture, can come off as trite, a simple phrase thrown like a bandage towards a heart needing surgery. This is not lost on me, nor am I immune to the tragedy of life that may precipitate such a silent grimace. Instead, it is a paraphrasing of that heavenly declaration that brings me great solace this year.  “Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.”  This is the ending line of all seven stanzas of Henry Wordsworth Longfellow’s poem, Christmas Bells. You may know it as the carol, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” and for the sake of dispelling the notion that they are easily stated, here is the entire poem, including the sections traditionally abandoned in our current renditions: I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, and wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!  And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! Till ringing, singing on its way, The world revolved from night to day, A voice, a chime, A chant sublime Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! Then from each black, accursed mouth The cannon thundered in the South, And with the sound The carols drowned Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! And in despair I bowed my head; “There is no peace on earth,” I said; “For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!” Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, goodwill to men.” Written on Christmas Day, 1863, these words would have almost certainly been accompanied by the same sensation of loss and lament that you may feel this year. As Longfellow sat in his home and listened to church bells in the distance, the 57-year-old widower and father of six had with him a telegram informing him that his eldest had been critically injured in a war pitting his country against itself.  Having never fully recovered physically or emotionally from the same fire that took his wife’s life, we can only imagine the agony of the heart that such a telegram delivered with it. And so, as the sound of church bells reached his ears that Christmas morning, a man who had lost and was losing even more began to mock the idea of peace on earth.  You see, despair and hope almost always accompany one another, a truth perhaps never more apparent than at Christmas when our need for a savior is most recognizable and the hope of Jesus is most revealed.  The stark difference between what we hope life is and the reality of our days casts our need for Heavenly rescue in sharp contrast, something that David Guzik points out has been evident to observers throughout history:  (Even the pagans of the first-century world sensed this need for peace and a savior. Epictetus, a first-century pagan writer, expressed this: “While the emperor may give peace from war on land and sea, he is unable to give peace from passion, grief, and envy; he cannot give peace of heart, for which man yearns for more than even outward peace.”) The world today is not so different. Cultures come and go, languages evolve, wars begin and end, and countries expand and contract, yet the recognition that something is missing and unreachable with hands made of flesh and blood remains. Zecharaiah knew it when he prophesied over his son John: And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;     for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation     through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God,     by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness     and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Luke 1: 76-79 The angels knew it when they sang out a declaration that “the good-will of God toward men, is glory to God in the highest, and peace on the earth.” (Matthew Henry) The shepherds must have sensed it and so lost no time, hurrying off to find the child and then spread the word of Him, and Mary knew it as she carefully secured these truths in her heart to treasure for all time. The people then, as they did in the time of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and as they do now, required a savior.  Wherever you are in your faith, whatever you are sitting in or walking through this advent season, whether life has given you a reason to delight or death has returned to you a season of discontent, remind your soul today that one night in Bethlehem, the sky parted. The Heavens declared that the very thing your heart is longing for thousands of years later was then and is now available. Many are the miracles of God, but none can bring peace to your heart this Christmas season except his redemption of the world, begun magnificently that night. Your situation may not change while you’re reading this (although I earnestly pray that it does to the Glory of God), but neither did Longfellow’s. Yet, there is something about that final stanza that lifts my heart as I read it, sitting amidst my pain this season. Despite his grief, despite his suffering, despite his doubt (and in my imagination with a soft, teary smile), Henry Wordsworth Longfellow confessed and held on to the hope of Jesus: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, goodwill to men.” May you have that peace.

The fields were quiet, save for the softened, constant bleating of the herds of sheep on the ranging hillside. Outside of a small town that would likely be left off the maps of the day, a group of shepherds huddled together. They may have been cold. They may have been content. But one thing is certain. They had no idea that a heavenly celebration would erupt over their heads. “Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn King!’” Originally written by Charles Wesley in the early 18th century, this hymn was inspired by what happened on that night on a field outside of Bethlehem. Drawn almost directly from Chapter 2 of Luke’s gospel, this hymn reflects the moment when a heavenly host appeared to the least-suspecting and arguably the least-likely group of men to proclaim in exaltation that glory be to God, and on earth, peace to those on whom his favor rests. The hymn may start in Luke 2, but as it progresses from line to line, it moves and weaves throughout the Scripture, capturing a thread of praise and proclamation that still moves hearts and souls today. Christ, by highest heaven adored (Philippians 2). Christ, the everlasting Lord (Psalm 90). Pleased, as man, with men to dwell (Colossians 1), Jesus, our Emmanuel (Matthew 1).  This Prince of Peace, this son of Righteousness, this person of the eternal and triune God, was now veiled in flesh as the incarnate deity. Born of Mary, and yet fully God. Born that man no more may die, and yet even then, on that night, while the triumph of the God-man was spread throughout the skies, the Cross loomed in the foreground. The hill of Calvary is just a dozen miles away from the manger.  Hark! The herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King!” Although Charles Wesley originally penned this now-famous carol, the hymn was slightly adjusted by another famous pastor and preacher, George Whitefield. Keeping the original inspiration from Luke 2, Whitefield tweaked some lines, most notably helping create the opening lyric we all know and from which the song derives its title. “Hark! The herald angels sing.”  It wasn’t until roughly halfway through the 19th century that an English musician, William Hayman Cummings, would set this adapted hymn to music, matching the deep and moving words with a beautiful melody from one of the greatest composers of the time: Felix Mendelssohn. By melding the tune and the lyrics, Cummings helped craft what has since been sung hundreds of thousands of times worldwide and will certainly be sung this Advent season again. The words help lift our spirits as they point towards a great and glorious God worth celebrating. It is a song of excitement, awe, and wonder. It is a declaration of goodness; the manifestation of the gospel come to life and now in flesh and blood.  The long-awaited Savior and Messiah of God’s people has finally arrived and is brought forth into the world to the roar of Heaven’s chorus, as men and angels alike looked upon this swaddled infant with reverent curiosity.  But even more than this, we glimpse in this song the truth that this glorious God has been working out a greater plan than any one of us could have ever imagined. Like the song, which bears the fingerprints of Wesley, Whitefield, Cummings, and Mendelssohn (and that was intertwined over nearly two centuries), the plan of God had been in motion long before the night’s interruption outside of Bethlehem. That’s what the Gospel writer Luke was referencing just verses before he recorded the divine heralding that inspired this hymn. He wrote in chapter two, verses 10-11, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” This text is one of many examples throughout the Scripture that tell us that the birth of Jesus wasn’t happenstance. It wasn’t just a random act of a bored God with nothing better to do. The birth of Jesus and the heavenly proclamation resulted from a purposed and sure plan God had worked out for all of history. It spanned back even before the foundation of the world. “For he chose us in him before the world’s creation to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love…” (Ephesians 1:4). Can you see the blueprint fragments revealed in these verses? The angel claims to bring “good news,” or the Greek word euangelizō, often used throughout the Old Testament to communicate “the joyful tidings of God’s kindness, in particular, of the Messianic blessings.” For generations, God had sown seeds of messianic expectation (Micah 5:1-2) and promise throughout his people, and now, the angel declares, this is that blessing.  This is the good news you’ve been waiting for.  The angel goes on to say that the good news is “for all the people,” which doesn’t sound strange to our ears but would have been slightly concerning to the 1st-century Jew. Historically, the messianic blessings were thought to be only for the Jews. But suppose you look back at God’s original promise to Abraham in Genesis 12. In that case, we see that within the first unconditional covenant of Scripture, God promises that through Abraham, and eventually through Israel, “all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” Again, the angel is saying that Jesus will fulfill that plan.  Lastly, the angel references the “city of David” and a “Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Not only do we get the thread tied back to David, thus the culmination of the Davidic Covenant from 2 Samuel 7 and the many texts that refer to the eternal Davidic king (Jeremiah 33:17), but the angel uses three distinct and significant words to refer to Jesus: Savior, Christ, and Lord. To the Jewish audience of that day, this trifecta of titles would have been mind-blowing. This Jesus was to be the Savior (sōtēr), a title often associated with God throughout the Old Testament (Psalm 25:5, Isaiah 62:11, Micah 7:7). This Jesus was to be the Christ (Christos), a term that in the Old Testament often meant “anointed one” and would be used 529 times in the New Testament.  Christ wasn’t Jesus’ last name; it was his God-planned and God-ordained title. And finally, the angel uses the title Lord (Kyrios). This term would have been shocking, as it was used over 7,000 times in nearly 6,000 scriptures throughout the Old Testament. It is a title that is practically on every page of the Scripture, and the angel says to these Shepherds, “For unto you, a child is born, and he is the LORD.” “Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn king!’” Why is this important to you today?  Because the same God who formed and followed through on his plan of salvation through his son Jesus Christ is the same God who is actively ordering and fulfilling his plan for your life today. We know that the holidays are busy and can often be a hectic time of year. For many, advent is a season of mourning and grieving just as much as a time of celebration. It can feel like in a season meant to focus on the life and work of Jesus, He is the furthest thing from our minds. But even here, in this very moment, God is working out his plan of redemption and salvation, making you more like Jesus.  He’s very good at following through on his plans. He has never dropped the ball or missed the window of opportunity. He has always shown up right on time, and he has always done what he has promised he would do. On that night, with the shepherds keeping watch of their flocks outside of Bethlehem, God showed up and did what only he could do. He made a way back home for everyone. God is still doing that today.  As we step into this Advent season, may we, with new gratitude, sing out these words and join our hearts to that heavenly declaration made some two thousand years ago, “Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn king.’”

The song has undoubtedly withstood the test of time as it was first played on Christmas Eve of 1818 in Austria. A Priest named Joseph Mohr insisted on having a unique musical element for their Christmas Eve service each year.  Still, on one particular year, as he made final preparations for the Christmas Eve service, he realized that the organ wasn’t working. Deflated and in a panic, Mohr remembered the words he had penned in a poem several years prior entitled “Stille Nacht,” which translated into English as “Silent Night.”   The words were without music, so he quickly contacted a musician friend named Franz Guber the night before Christmas Eve. In one night, Guber brought instrumentation to the song that has become one of, if not the most popular Christmas song of all time. Take a minute to read these words written over 200 years ago. Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright. Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child. Holy infant so tender and mild, Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace.  Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight. Glories stream from heaven afar Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia, Christ the Saviour is born! Christ the Saviour is born  Silent night, holy night! Son of God love’s pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face With the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Jesus Lord, at Thy birth The imagery in Mohr’s words echoes the words we find in the gospel accounts of the birth of the Messiah in Bethlehem, stories found in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. The thought of a Holy infant should unlock a sense of extraordinary wonder in us. Jesus, who spoke everything into creation, chose to enter into that same creation. The painter became paint on His own canvas. The Alpha and the Omega, the one who is outside of time and space, chose to enter into it, wrapped in skin and bones as a tiny, innocent, and vulnerable baby. Mohr writes that the shepherds quake at the sight of this Holy infant. Luke records that an angel of the Lord appears to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified as you and I would be as well.  There is significance in the fact that the first announcement of the arrival of the promised Messiah was to shepherds. We know that shepherds were ceremonially unclean- they were the working-class people of the day. Their work was dirty, hard work. It wasn’t a career that you would want for your children. And yet, the first announcement of Israel’s King went to them, not to the high and mighty or those with societal status. One thing about Jesus is that He doesn’t do things by accident. Everything is intentional. Maybe He chose to be announced first to the shepherds because you can relate to what it is like to not be in the highest position in society. Perhaps He was letting us know that the good news of the King’s arrival is genuinely for everyone. Luke also tells us that to ensure that the shepherds didn’t miss the message, there was a choir of angels that formed and sang, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests.” This scene is what Mohr is referencing when he writes of the Heavenly Hosts singing alleluia. One of the beautiful things about the song Silent Night is that its story is as powerful as the song itself. Just as Mohr sat quietly, hoping in despair while waiting desperately for a solution, the people of Israel knew what it was like to wait quietly. They knew all too well what a silent night was like. In fact, they had experienced over 400 years of what must have felt like silent nights. Our Bibles are broken into two sections: the Old Testament and the New Testament. As the Old Testament comes to a close with the book of Malachi, we turn our page quickly and start to read about the arrival of the promised King. However, historically, there were over 400 years between the end of Malachi and the coming of Jesus. As far as we know, God seemed silent during this intertestamental period. No prophets were speaking, no king from the line of David on the throne, and no new Scriptures were being penned. The Israelites must have wondered, what happened? Did we finally cross the line? Has God officially given up on us? After 400 years of waiting, Heaven speaks through an angel to a man named Zechariah. In Luke 1:11, the angel says, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John.” The meaning of names is incredibly important in Holy Scripture. After 400 years of seemingly nothing from God, heaven speaks to a man whose name means “God remembers,” and his wife is named Elizabeth, whose name means “God’s covenant,” or “God’s promises.” So Heaven speaks after 400 years of what feels like Silent Nights to a couple whose names mean, “God remembers God’s promises.” We now know, looking back through the lens of history, that even though God’s people must have felt like God was silent, He was, in fact, working the entire time. He was moving through rulers and empires to set the stage for the arrival of the promised Messiah. What a comfort that is for us. To know that the message of Christmas boiled down into a nutshell is that God keeps His promises. He hasn’t forgotten what He promised. He is working while we wait. Whether you can see it or feel it or not, God is always working. As we approach the Christmas season, maybe you find yourself in what seems to be a string of silent nights. Let the arrival of the promised King in Bethlehem remind you today that God always keeps His promises. Jesus truly is love’s pure light, as Mohr writes in the closing stanza. So loving that He left heaven because He knew we would never be able to climb our way up, so He humbled Himself and came down in the form of a baby to live the perfect life we couldn’t live and die the death that we deserved. On a hill in Calvary, our blame and guilt were placed upon Him, and His innocence transferred to us. While the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus is the crux of our faith…we know that there would be no Calvary if there weren’t first a baby born in a manger on a silent night in Bethlehem.